Red vs Blue: After the Recon Bonus Material
by Stelladea
Summary: Well, what do we have here? You'll just have to find out.
1. Introduction

Well... I suppose some of you saw this coming.

You know I can't stay away for long. ;)

Here we are: The Reconnaissance Trilogy** Bonus Material!** Although Eleven's current story is over, I periodically get the urge to write more. Please consider this ongoing fic as a conglomeration of drabble, crossovers, fluff, AUs, and one-shots. Basically, if I ever get inspired to write small things related to RvB or Eleven, it'll get posted here.

Please feel free to leave comments, questions, or even requests! I may or may not need some inspiration sometimes.

As always, enjoy!

-Stella


	2. The Celebratory Kiss

(Periodically, on Tumblr, I will open the floor to requests. This was a "celebratory kiss between Tucker and Eleven" submitted by anonymous. Written 11.30.12.)

* * *

"Yes! Yes, yes ye— oh,_ fuck!_ No! No, no, no!"

I groaned, falling back on the couch and smacking a palm against my forehead. Game point.

"Wooo!" Tucker shouted, jumping up and punching the air in triumph. "Suck it, Red!"

"But— But—" I protested, staring at the television screen. The bright commentator's voice announced the Blue team's victory over the Reds. "We were ahead! How did you—"

"We're just that badass!" Tucker shouted, smiling happily as the Grifball logo flashed across the screen in bright blue. "They can't handle us."

"All right, all right, fine," I huffed. "I lost. You won."

The aqua-clad soldier grinned. "And we never settled on what the terms of our bet would be. Just that we were on opposing sides. Now you owe me."

"What do you want?" I replied only somewhat irritatedly, standing up and crossing my arms.

Tucker raised an eyebrow as he looked down at me, a cocky half-smile framing his face. "Well, as the loser, you're now supposed to kiss my ass."

"If you think that I'm—"

"_However_," he interrupted, holding up a finger. "I'm a very generous guy."

"Are you?"

"Yep. I'm willing to allow you to kiss my face instead. Just because I'm that great."

I stood there for a moment, giving him the half-exasperated you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look. He said nothing and waited expectantly, smiling roguishly.

Finally, I rolled my eyes and leaned toward him. "Yeah. You're a _really_ generous man."

I brought my lips on his as the crowd on the television screen roared in applause.

"And _that_," the commentator continued, "Is how you play the game!"


	3. Serious Problems

(Tumblr request for Tex and Caboose handcuffed together. Because that's such a safe combination. Written 12.1.12.)

* * *

Tex never considered herself a patient woman. Or, rather, a patient AI. In fact, she thought that her personality was the epitome of horrifically _impatient_. There was no indication in her mind that she should stand around waiting for things to happen when she had people to kill and money to make.

Therefore, the morning she woke up out of power-saving mode attached to Caboose at the wrist, she truly thought she had fallen into some sort of nightmare.

"What the—"

"It worked!" Caboose said brightly, plopping to the ground like a rag doll as Tex tried to shake him away from her in vain. "This is the best friendship bracelet ever!"

Tex stepped back multiple steps, dragging Caboose's rear on the ground toward her as she did so. "Wha— friendship? What the hell are you talking about? I thought you wanted to be friends with Church!"

"I do!" Caboose replied cheerily, standing up as if he had not been thrown about the room a moment before. "But I did not know if it worked on a robot body, so I had to test it! And it does work! Now I can give Church the bracelet instead!"

"You chose me because I'm not human!?"

Caboose shook his head, his eyes wide. "No. Church told me to."

Tex stared.

"Come on," she growled, striding out of the room and bringing Caboose to the ground again. "Walk."

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to find your best friend."

Tex flipped on her voice changer and adjusted it to the loudest setting.

"LEONARD L. CHURCH. IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE RIGHT NOW, WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A SERIOUS PROBLEM."


	4. The Handcuffs

(Tumblr request for Wash and Eleven in handcuffs by anonymous. Written 12.3.12.)

* * *

"You know, you'd think that they'd lock us up in separate cells once they got their hands on us."

"They probably like watching spouses fight."

"Well, they're getting their wish," I huffed, squirming against the restraints. "You are an idiot. We would have made it out safely if you hadn't triggered that alarm."

Wash and I sat in chairs facing opposite directions, our wrists attached together behind our backs.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't been so focused on getting out of here so fast, we would have been able to sneak out quietly!" he responded irritably.

"Oh, don't give me that," I growled. "You know as well as I that we're under time constraints. We were supposed to meet at the rendezvous point twelve minutes ago with the documents!"

"Yeah, well, arguing about this isn't going to make us escape any faster," Wash retorted. He yanked his hands against the bindings covering our wrists, sighing in frustration. "Let's just— let's just think of a way out of this."

"You're surprisingly calm for a captive, you know," I commented. "I hope you realize that you'd be panicking if we were still working at Project Freelancer."

"Well, I'd _hope_ that a man would have matured in twenty years," Wash replied dryly. "It's a wonder you stuck around with me this long at all."

"I ask myself the same question every day." I fidgeted with our wrists again, tugging at the bindings. "I think they just attached us together with rope. Do you still have your knife?"

"No. They took that from me."

I furrowed my brow, looking down at what the goons hadn't taken of my armor. My leg armor caught my eye and I grinned suddenly. "Well, I think we're in luck. But I'm going to need you to reach toward my thigh."

Wash chuckled. "You should say that to me more often."

"My _blade_ is there," I retorted, rolling my eyes. "Beneath my armor, near my hip. We just need to reach it."

Wash scooted his chair to my right, bending my left arm at an awkward (but not painful) angle and grunted, reaching toward my upper thigh. I tried shifting my hips in his direction, and he managed to unsheathe my small dagger from the secret compartment in my armor.

"Got it," he said quietly, cutting through the ropes quickly. However, as soon as I tried bringing my hands toward my front, I was jolted backward again.

"Shit," I muttered. I lifted my right hand as he raised his left. "Handcuffs too."

Wash sighed but said nothing, cutting his ankles loose from the legs of his chair and then releasing mine. We both stood up and I began picking the lock of the cell with the knife. It popped open easily— being friends with York all that time ago certainly had had its perks— and we peeked down the hallway before glancing at each other. The guards saw us poking our heads out of the hallway and jumped up, outraged.

"Oops." I laughed, turning to Wash. "Try to keep up, will you? I don't want to have to drag you along behind me, you old geezer."

"Likewise," Wash chuckled, planting a quick kiss on my cheek before we took off down the hallway. They would never catch us.

I hoped.


	5. Genderbending

(Tumblr request for a genderbent Tucker and Eleven by anonymous. Written 12.5.12.)

* * *

I yawned widely, stretching out as the sun streamed through my window. I frowned immediately, squinting against the light. My window didn't allow sun through at that angle…

I jolted upright.

This wasn't my room.

_How the…_

My jaw fell open. How the _hell_ had I ended up in Tucker's room? I sprang out of his bed and immediately toppled over, slamming into the ground.

Somehow, I had grown to quite a height overnight. And… why did my chest feel remarkably lighter…?

I glanced down and emitted what I expected would be a high squeal, but, instead, my voice just cracked and a low yell emanated from my throat.

I was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. My pectoral muscles had greatly diminished, and I was suddenly deathly afraid of what lay beneath those undergarments. Furthermore… my clothing was all in aqua.

I gasped and staggered over to the mirror.

Tucker stared back at me.

"Oh, my God," I said in a familiar voice that was definitely not my own. "Oh, my God!"

I stumbled out of his bedroom and careened down the hall as fast as my now-longer legs allowed, knocking on my own bedroom door quickly.

My door opened almost immediately, and I stared down at… myself.

Our eyes were both wide, and I had no idea how to initiate this conversation other than:

"T— Tucker?" I asked weakly.

"Eleven!" the Eleven in front of me gasped. "You— is that you?"

"Yes!" I sighed, striding into the room quickly and locking the door behind us. "What the hell is going on?"

He— she?— shrugged. "I have no idea. I woke up just a couple of minutes ago like… this."

I looked down at my body, utterly unable to believe that I was looking at myself. I looked incredulous but not exactly upset.

"Okay, okay. Let's just think of a way out of this," I said, my voice cracking again. These vocal chords were not my style. "Let's just go back to our rooms and get back into bed to try to fall asleep again. I'm sure the others won't care too much, and if they do, we'll just tell them…" I stopped. "Tucker!"

My body jumped and looked back at me. "What?"

"Are you even paying attention!?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Tucker replied, glancing sneakily into my mirror. "We'll get right to it…"

"Tucker!" I snapped, crossing my arms. "What are you doing? Stop staring!"

Tucker grinned roguishly, I knew exactly what he was thinking because it was my face he was using to form the expression. Damn it.

"I'm not looking at you. I'm eyeing myself up."

_"Tucker."_

He grinned. "I hope you realize we're going to have to change before leaving the base…"

I glared. "Absolutely not."

"Oh, I don't know, I think it's going to be really necessary." He smirked and adjusted my bra.

_"Hands off,"_ I growled, moving forward and grasping my own collar. "I swear, if you try anything funny…"

Tucker laughed out loud. "You wouldn't dare punch yourself."

"Want to bet?" I raised a fist. "I would take getting a black eye over anything _you'd_ want to try any day."


	6. High Fantasy

(Anonymous Tumblr request for Fantasy AU with Eleven and Wash. This is... quite the crackfic. Written 12.14.12.)

* * *

The clawed beast shuddered under my boot as I pried my freshly-aimed arrow from its flesh. From its mangled claws stumbled a young knight with dented armor. His chain mail shone in the waning sunlight, his previously untouched uniform in pieces. Large rips ran through the clothing as it hung from his form in ribbons of gray and yellow. He stood up shakily as his eyes fell on me, and he gasped.

"Good evening, thou damsel in distress," I said with a smile, placing my bow back into its holder.

"M'lady!" he stuttered. "Lady—"

"Pray hold!" I interrupted him sharply. "Thou knowest not to use my true name, Sir Davyd."

"Oh— oh, yes, Lady_ Evelyn_," he corrected himself, a look of shock still painted across his face. "Apologies. How didst thou arrive here? Thou knowest thou is not allowed—"

"Of course I understand such situations," I snapped smartly. "However, if I had not come, thou wouldst be in the belly of that beast."

"And for that I am eternally grateful." He stood up straight, and, for the first time, I noticed his arm was bloodied.

"Sir Davyd!" I rushed to the knight, immediately ripping a stretch of fabric from my skirt.

Upon seeing my ankles, Davyd's face burned bright. "Ev— M— M'lady, such measures of indecency are not warranted for such—"

"Hush now. I may do as I wish with my own articles of clothing." I pressed the fabric to his arm. "Dost it pain you greatly?"

The knight shook his head. "Thine presence seeps pain from my being."

"As dost the presence of my ankles," I replied dryly, smirking. The knight began to protest, but I covered his mouth with my palm. "Shh, good sir. If thou behaves, perhaps thou shalt see more than that when we return tonight."


	7. Halloween Antics

(Halloween special! Written 10.31.13 and inspired by RvB artist jspx's Halloween sketches.)

* * *

"No."

"Come on, Ells!"

"Absolutely not."

"But I made it just for you!"

"Don't you guilt trip me, Donut. This is not happening."

"You have to! You said you would!"

"And you said you were giving me a costume! Not a strip of pink fabric! What is this, part of a Red base curtain?"

"It's not pink. It's lightish red."

Donut looked into Eleven's eyes pleadingly. She glared, arms crossed, only faltering when Donut brought out his own costume to match— his bow tie and top hat were of the same fabric. Finally, Eleven sighed and slipped into the tiny little pink dress. She would never hear the end of this one.

Donut broke into a delighted smile and changed quickly into his own costume, complete with a full tuxedo. God knew where he had gotten that. He adjusted the sparkly pink bow tie and hat and grabbed the matching magic wand.

"The final touch for you—" And he gave Eleven a pair of fluffy rabbit ears.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

As they entered the kitchen, they were met with the other eclectically-costumed Blood Gulchers. Two military drill sergeants stood side-by-side— one a rather grumpy-looking Sarge and the other an adoring Simmons. Grif, looking slightly disgusted, hadn't changed at all but had added a salsa stain to his orange t-shirt.

Church donned a bed sheet. Eleven raised an eyebrow at him, and he glided over.

"A ghost? Really?"

"Boo, motherfucker."

"That's lame."

"Says the Energizer Bunny."

"Hey! Donut said I was going to be a magician's assistant, not a pet. I was forced into this."

"Well thank God for that." Tucker sidled up next to her, grinning and showing off horrible fake vampire teeth and a plastic cape. "So I get a treat from you tonight, right? Your neck is looking nice and bite-free. I can help fix that…"

"Maybe Donut should make you _disappear_," came an irritated snap from behind them. Tucker turned and laughed at the zombified ex-Freelancer standing in the doorway. "That would do us all a favor."

"Oh, cheer up, dude. It's Halloween." Tucker glanced at Eleven. "Have something sweet. I know I've had my fill of eye candy for the night."

Wash's irritated snarl was drowned out by the sudden smash from the doorway. Everyone jumped and Sarge grabbed his shotgun.

"What the hell was that!?" Church yelped.

"It's Halloween!" Grif said nervously. "What if it's bats?"

"Better than snakes," Simmons retorted.

Feeling quite exposed, Eleven grabbed one of Wash's guns from his undead apocalypse survival utility belt and crept toward the front door of the base. "Come on, guys."

As they tiptoed forward, the banging happened again. The door trembled under the weight of… whatever had decided to attack Red base.

As the Reds, Blues, Wash and Eleven reached the door, she looked at the others, who hesitated. With a large swallow, Eleven grabbed the door and swung it open. An enormous figure stood in the doorway, swinging its limbs menacingly, a pumpkin as its head.

"The headless horseman!" Donut shrieked, stumbling backward.

"Oh no! Where?" The figure spun around frantically. "I cannot see anything! It is too dark out here!"

"Caboose!?" Simmons cried. "What the hell—"

"Oh, for the love of God!" Tucker stepped forward, reached up and grabbed the pumpkin, plucking it off Caboose's head. "There. That better?"

"Oh!" Caboose broke into a huge smile, looking around. "I can see you now, Mr. Vampire! Here is my Jill-o-Lantern to add to the party. Can you tell me where my friends are? I need to wish them a happy Halloween!"


	8. The Note, Part I

(A "Christmas special" of sorts. Written 12.25.11.)

* * *

Eleven rummaged noisily through her desk.

She slowly removed all the junk and old papers from the drawers, dumping most everything into the trash. Old bills, progress reports, and dictations were all discarded immediately. The gum wrappers and indigestible Hershey's kisses were all thrown out as well. She wanted to clean everything out and organize in time for the new year.

As she continued rifling through the mess, one piece of paper in particular caught her eye. It lay at the bottom of one of the desk drawers, folded neatly into quarters. "Eleven" was written on the front.

Recognizing the paper, Eleven opened it nervously. It was from a different time in her life. A different era. The handwriting inside said:

_Hello, beautiful._

_I know you said that we can't get each other Christmas presents in a work environment like this. I get that, but I hope that you can accept this piece of paper instead._

_Thank you for an amazing evening. I wouldn't have wanted to spend the holiday with anyone else. I just hope that, someday, we won't have to do it in secret while training for a war. It's going to sound cheesy, but I'm gladly giving you my heart for Christmas. You have it now, and you always will._

_I'm yours, Ells._

_David_

Blinking furiously, Eleven crumpled up the piece of paper viciously and threw it in the trash bin. She continued working on organizing the rest of her desk…

Not two minutes later, Eleven dove back into the trash can and retrieved the crushed piece of paper. She flattened it out hastily, trying to return it to its original state. Then, she read it again. And again. And again.

_How things change._


	9. The Note, Part II

(Anonymous Tumblr request for Wash and Eleven fluff occurring during Season 9. Written 12.25.12.)

* * *

"Wait, stop!"

Eleven jumped in surprise as Wash flung an arm out, barring her way just outside the entrance to the party. Inside the large, darkened room, she could see the holographic LEDs flashing in bright green and red. Multiple whiskey bottles littered the ground around Maine and Wyoming, and York and Carolina were already lip-locking ferociously in the corner.

"What?" she asked in trepidation, already reaching for the pistol strapped to her garter beneath her shimmering blue dress. "What is it?"

Wash's face stared intently at the top of the doorway, and as soon as Eleven followed his gaze, her tense muscles relaxed and she laughed. A small tangle of leaves hung above the door.

"I see how it is. You don't want to kiss me."

Wash lowered his hand. "Nope, that's not it."

"Oh? Then what's the alarm?"

"Before we step under _that_," he explained, pointing at the greenery. "I want to give you this." He handed Eleven a small, folded square of paper scribbled with two 1s. "Read it later, okay?"

Slightly perplexed, Eleven stuck the note in her dress. "Why give this to me now?"

Wash shrugged. "The second we step under that doorway, I'm going to get so distracted I might forget later."

He smiled at Eleven, gripping her hand and pulling her under the sprig of green. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed their lips together tenderly; as the moments passed and the two still had not parted, Eleven understood exactly why Wash had decided to give her the note_ before_ entering the party.


End file.
